Social Tees and Troy would like to sincerely thank all of you wonderful
animal-lovers who donated to its fundraiser for this rescue puppy's
medical care!!

Thank you also to those who spread the word!!
The fundraiser ended this past Saturday, and while ST didn't quite
reach its goal, it got over two thirds of the way there... which
will make a HUGE difference in putting this deserving pup on the path to
a healthy life.

Troy will soon be starting his next round of veterinary
care, and it's all thanks to you!!!!!!!! Sweet dreams, little Troy!
You're on the road to recovery.

WASN'T IT GREAT TO HELP TROY OUT???

YOU WANNA DO IT AGAIN?

Incoming Puppies!!!!

The kill shelters in Los Angeles are full. Social Tees is working to save 12 small
dogs/puppies and have them flown out to New York and new homes. It will ONLY cost $125 per
dog to save them from euthanasia and get them here!

So give what you can and spread the word!

https://fundrazr.com/campaigns/baa7c **

Got Cat?

JOJO IS OUR GOLDEN GIRL!!

This
one-year-old is delicate, low key, loving, and grateful. With her slight
frame and sweetly intriguing personality, she's like a feline version
of a fairy. It almost wouldn't surprise us if this gorgeous little lady sprouted a pair of glittery wings one day and floated out of her cage!

Jojo is great with other cats and dogs.

Come meet her (and our other awesome animals!) at 325 East 5th Street, NY, NY 10003; 5-7pm tonight; socialteesnyc.org or come to one of the adoption events!!!HOW DO I ADOPT FABULOUS DOGS AND CATS LIKE TROY AND JOJO AND THOSE PUPPIES???!

Do you want to meet all the other great pups and kitties at Social Tees,
but you're stuck at your desk during the week? Then come to the weekend
events at Petco / Union Square!!

Thursday, August 29, 2013

It's been a never-ending fog of mugginess and loss, each day another announcement of 100-year old businesses vanquished by high rents and neighborhoods disappearing into someone's idea of an exclusive playground.

Too, it's been a time of slowly saying goodbye to Her New York as things get packed up in one old home and a new home rises from the ashes of failed attempts. In the rushed wanderings, I kept looking for something that called out a city everyone wanted to live in so that they could become themselves.

Outside the front door, on the third floor which was really the fourth floor because the first floor was really the second floor and the lobby was the floor before the numbers started, up on that third floor lived Cindy.

And yeah, I could have walked down from the fifth floor which was really the sixth floor and knocked on her door, but usually I just ran down all the stairs to see if she and B were already there in the courtyard. If they weren't, then our version of cell phones took place.

We'd look up and shout "Cindy" or "B" and someone would stick their head out the window and shout down, "I'm coming down" or "I can't I gotta do homework" or "she's not here".

And when it was time to come home, some mother or older sibling would stick their head out the window and shout, "Mom says come home, supper's ready". And sometimes one mother whose windows didn't face inside the courtyard would have another mother whose window did face the courtyard shout down "Your mother wants you to go home now".

We all shouted up and we all shouted down, our noise filling the courtyard day in, day out, even when we were teenagers and our idea of 'playing' was sitting around in blue eye shadow and sulking or walking the rim of the courtyard talking of God and marriage.

These brick are mamalochen, for the minute I looked up a call came to my lips, the name of a friend now dead a few years or the other, a grandmother in New Jersey. But the courtyard is now politely quiet, silence being an important selling point for apartments no longer considered homes but luxury housing. And I think, well then when you look up all you're gonna see is brick, not your New York.**Related Posts:Sunday Memories: Mamalochen

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

The cat made a last ditch run for the top floor to hunt the pigeons before they left for their winter homes while the rest of us hoped that nice cool air would quickly do away with constantly running the fan.

Sunday, August 25, 2013

During
the hot days, she, like many of our neighbors, would prop open her
front door and let whatever breeze existed waft in from the stairwell's
window.

With so many opened doors our different lives
would also drift up and down the stairs, the sounds and smells and
conversations, the T.V. going, all weaving in and out making a village
out of thirty-five apartments.

One night, decades later
in a much smaller apartment building, I opened the door during a
non-stop heat wave, and a breeze blew in and as it came in, the cat ran
out, the cool of 100 year old marble floors and walls too much to
resist.

And soon that door, like Florence's, stayed open as the cat and I,
wandering the stairs in the middle of the night, listened to our
neighbors sleep, hummed along with all the air conditioners in the air
shaft and sat in the still and the silence.

I
miss the normalcy of open doors during hot days and sleepless nights,
and when my door is closed because the neighbors are awake, I miss my
mother.

This is Troy and if you have ever met a cuter, sweeter, more delicious, adorable, loving dog, well then damnit you have met Troy.

Little Troy was rescued from a high-kill shelter in NYC. Before he ended up there, he was severely neglected, kept exclusively in a tiny cage, and only fed scraps every other day. Due to lack of nutrition, space, exercise, (and love!), he did not grow properly -- his legs are deformed, his teeth are rotting, and his body is weak from muscle atrophy.

Finally, we gave up and headed home. Maybe there was something good or stupid or both on TV to end the day and make our brains slow down. But by the time we got to First Avenue, the sky unfolded before our eyes and while waves of bodies poured around us staring at their cell phones, we watched the best show in town.

Friday, August 16, 2013

Dottie (formerly Rihanna) was rescued from the kill shelter a few months ago when she was very pregnant. She had her puppies shortly after, all of which were snatched up as soon as they were able to leave her side -- but this gorgeous girl was left behind! Lo and behold, along came the family of her dreams. They fell in love with her right away and swept her off to Williamsburg. Now this spotted little pittie lives like the princess that she is. Sweet dreams, Dottie!

YOU COULD BE A FUTURE SUCCESS STORY TOO! SOCIAL TEES HAS ADORABLE KITTENS, SEXY CATS AND WONDERFUL SMALL AND LARGE PUPPIES AND DOGS UP FOR ADOPTION AND FOSTERING! CHECK OUT THEIR FACEBOOK PAGE!

A FACE ONLY A MOTHER COULD LOVE

GEMMA THE BULLDOG NEEDS A FOSTER HOME!!

Two-year-old Gemma is great with other dogs, crate trained, and cute as hell. We need a foster home for her starting ASAP! (She is also up for adoption.) Pickup is at Social Tees in the East Village, fostering would last 1-2 weeks, experienced dog owners/fosters only please.

WHAT'S FOSTERING, YOU WONDER?!

Fostering lasts a few weeks, and Social Tees can provide supplies if you need them. Fostering is SUPER important because it's much healthier for our animals to be in homes than in cages, and it expands our shelter virtually.

AND for every cat and dog that is placed in a foster home, Social Tees can pull another out of the kill shelter. So if you are an animal-lover with commitment issues, FOSTER!!!

Meet Hay and Oats, two recently rescued Siamese guinea pigs! Boy do they love to nibble on corn fresh from the farmers market. Spoiled little guinea piggies. Interested in adopting them? Come hang with Hay and Oats at Social Tees or email Marisa.socialtees@gmail.com for more info!

HOW DO I ADOPT!

Do you want to meet these guys and all the other great pups and kitties at Social Tees, but you're stuck at your desk during the week? Then come to the weekend events at Petco / Union Square!!

Thursday, August 15, 2013

Passing Moishe's unadorned window day in and day out and staring at the filled trays of everything we were never allowed to eat was just another occasion for me to yearn and dream. Once in a while, I'd get hold of a black and white cookie or a chocolate bell, either through begging a luckier friend to share or bought with money that perhaps might have been illicitly procured. I don't recall.

The other day, finishing another round of prep to sell Florence's last home, I stepped up to the window. Forty-five years later I still didn't feel allowed to do more than yearn and dream. Of course, now I had more reasons other than 'my parents won't let me'. Like none of my jeans fit, I hadn't been to the gym in months, gluten made me sick, sugar was bad for me, I hadn't had dinner, I should eat more veggies....

Fuck it, I said and walked in and pointed to a bunch of stuff I had always wanted, and before I got home half of those things were already gone.

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

The toilet just started leaking and the interview can only happen in the middle of the afternoon. In between there's a daily commute that tickles three hours for a ten hour day job and a home front filled with forty years of files and letters and photos and condemning history and lost time and good memories and horrifying fashion decisions to cull through. Not to mention the laundry, the garbage, the recycling, the cat and the cat's food which can only be gotten at one place in one flavor or he won't eat it and which we've just run out of.

And still, and still, and still...two years just slipped by because we were too busy laughing really hard as we flew down fast into more fun.

Sunday, August 11, 2013

The competition to have breasts and a new bra was fierce on Grand Street. Of course all the other girls got the bras first, regardless of how far along the secondary sex characteristic were. It was only when I ripped all my simple girl tees shirts down the middle and insisted that that destruction had been caused by my early bosom did Florence loosen purse strings and send me off to Grand and Orchard and one of the many local underwear stores run almost exclusively by Hasid and Orthodox Jews.

Then, as now, the assessment of size was done in two ways. If it was a man who waited on you, a deceptively vague glance across your chest could pinpoint the right cup size within millionths of an inch. If it was a woman, usually the wife, the mother, the mother-in-law, sizing was much more hands on.

And so this first time, as all the times after, I stepped forward, stated my need, and within seconds a pair of elderly, firm and intelligent hands grasped what I had, up to this point, been able to grow in 13 years. Then as quickly as they came, the hands left. A thin, white box was pulled from hundreds of identical boxes stacked on wall shelves and what was referred to as a training bra appeared. I don't think I even tried it on in the store. It was packaged and paid for and I headed home, a bit bewildered by touch I had only experienced before by camp counselors and friends' uncles, but at least carrying proof that now I was a woman.

A couple of years ago, in need of a bra that not only really fit, but also fulfilled certain vanity criteria, I returned to Orchard Street and to one of the few remaining dusty underwear shops. Stepping into the familiar walls of shelves of hundreds of identical boxes I was immediately met with that brilliant cursory glance by the young bearded Hasid. And after barely telling the mother-in-law what I needed, a pair of elderly, firm and intelligent hands grasped what I had, up to this point, been able to grow over 50 years.

*BYE BYE BIRDIE

How Lovely To Be A Woman

...How lovely to be a woman,
The wait was well worth while;
How lovely to wear mascara
And smile a woman's smile.
How lovely to have a figure,
That's round instead of flat...

Friday, August 9, 2013

You want to support animal rescue but you have no time and no space for a pet. I hear your pain. But wait, there's another way you can have the joy of rescuing even if you can't take a puppy yourself.

MEET TROY!!!

Little Troy was rescued from a high-kill shelter in NYC. Before he
ended up there, he was severely neglected, kept exclusively in a tiny
cage, and only fed scraps every other day. Due to lack of nutrition,
space, exercise, (and love!), he did not grow properly -- his legs are
deformed, his teeth are rotting, and his body is weak from muscle
atrophy.

But despite his rocky start, this little angel is happy! He
LOVES EVERY HUMAN HE MEETS, showering them with wiggles and kisses. Social Tees
wanted to help this boy get a shot at life and give him the medical
attention he needs. So they put out a call for donations for his medical treatment. And everybody shared the words.

GUESS WHAT HAPPENED???? UPDATE FROM SOCIAL TEES!!WOAH!! WE JUST GOT A CRAZY DONATION TO OUR FUNDRAISER!!! An extremely generous soul just donated $500 to help this neglected, abused (but happy!) kill shelter rescue puppy receive the medical care he needs for proper rehabilitation.

.. BUT TROY STILL NEEDS YOUR HELP - Our goal is to raise $6,000 by August 24, and we're almost halfway there!!! Every dollar counts, animal-lovers. Spread the love far and wide!

SO join in!!!!!! donate whatever you have - nothing is too little and nothing is too big. It's all perfect and when you see Troy prancing happily down the street with his new mom or pop you'll know you were part of what made it happen. Now, that's priceless.

WAIT! YOU WANT SEE IF YOU WANT YOUR OWN PUPPY!!????

WHAT ABOUT FOSTERING THESE GUYS!?

Social Tees has been bringing up puppies from high-kill shelters in the south and has a bunch of puppies up for adoption. However, they'll need fostering homes as well.

WHAT'S FOSTERING, YOU WONDER?!

Fostering lasts a few weeks, and Social Tees can provide supplies if you need them. Fostering is SUPER important because it's much healthier for our animals to be in homes than in cages, and it expands our shelter virtually.

AND for every cat and dog that is placed in a foster home, Social Tees can pull another out of the kill shelter. So if you are an animal-lover with commitment issues, FOSTER!!!

Esmeralda and her sister Tabitha, another way adorable Chihuahua, are hanging out at Social Tees while they wait for the right forever family to come along and sweep them off their feet. They were recently rescued from a neglectful home and are sooooooo grateful for all of the loving attention and fresh air they now get! They adore affection (especially belly rubs!) and chilling while you sit and read on a bench outside.

HOW DO I ADOPT!

Do you want to meet these guys and all the other great pups and kitties at Social Tees, but you're stuck at your desk during the week? Then come to the weekend events at Petco / Union Square!!

Thursday, August 8, 2013

The minute I saw him taking a picture of the front door, I knew this was His New York.

The gate of 217 hasn't changed he told me. It was just like that when he was a young man of 18, fresh from Brazil, right after the war, working for the United States Consulate.

Of course, pointing up to the second or third floor, he had just a small room, enough space for a bed. The toilet and anything else he might desire was outside his tiny habitat.

It had taken him 18 days on a ship to arrive in a city so different then. After a very brief stay on Ellis Island - a letter from the Commanding Officer on the U.S. Base in Brazil made sure it was brief - he got a lift into the heart of the city.

"Where should I drop you?" asked the driver.

"At a square," he replied.

There, smack in the middle of the sidewalk, filled with the milling crowd of New Yorkers on the run to someplace else, was the sergeant from the very U.S. base in Brazil where his journey had begun. In a city of millions, what were the chances of him, all of 18, fresh off the boat, finding a familiar face at rush hour?

"I'm writing a book about my life," he told me.

"I can't wait to read it," I replied.

In the meantime, I quietly gave thanks that, while rushing to someplace else, late as always, blasting music, I too got a million-in-one chance to do something I rarely do. I stopped and asked a complete stranger about their own New York.

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

I recognized the number of the four missed calls right away. It was the ER.

Rushing through dark, summer streets was like listening to a familiar song sung by someone new. Even if it was only a dog bite on the arm and the dog had had its shots, having to step back into old space that had been the many cracks of a broken heart required a calm that wasn't there anymore.

The place was packed. And the night, just like all those past nights, began.

Sunday, August 4, 2013

On the Avenue A bus, Florence was known as the lady in the sweater. That's because once the marriage was over, she never wore a winter coat again. No matter how bitter it got, how low the thermometer dropped, how hard the snow snowed, Florence wore a sweater and an old scarf.

Years of yelling into the phone to her that it was cold outside, she was sick and it was fucking us all up when she didn't take care of herself had no effect whatsoever.

Until....

Maybe in her sixties, definitely in her seventies, she started teaching piano lessons in people's homes. Barely charging more than $20 most times, she trudged from apartment to apartment, up stairs, up elevators, past doormen or just buzzing intercoms, a bag packed with xeroxed piano tunes that aimed not to teach the classics but entertain young children usually less enthusiastic about the piano than their parents, thrilled to be getting a seemingly harmless old lady graduate of Julliard who came cheap.

Most were native New Yorkers, some bohemians, others used to different drummers and different beats, so Florence showing up without a winter coat was just one more detail to add when talking about the elderly piano teacher who made house calls.

Except for one family. They were rich; they were powerful; they were used to seeing their name on different buildings throughout the city. And an old lady showing up with a bag full of xeroxes and not wearing anything but a sweater and scarf was not part of their experience.

Which is why Florence began to receive winter coats every year from them. Hating each and every one of these garments, she would, as the weather began to turn, grimly drag one on in fury and stomp off to teach this family's kids. As soon as the lesson was over, she'd stomp home and the coat would stay in the closet until it was time for her to return.

At some point, the family stopped asking her to teach their kids. Although she missed the money, not wearing the coat was liberating. And, knowing that I did wear winter coats, she passed them on to me.

In the recent delight of wearing what I chose and living with what I wanted, not what was left behind or what had been accumulated, one of those coats needed to be reconsidered. No matter how warm the coat was, Florence's history of going from home to home, laden with attempts at a livelihood while holding onto what was left of her soul and her life just left me chilled.

And as easily as it was for Florence to slip it off and be freed from it, I slipped the coat on the shoulders of an old friend and suddenly there was no history or sorrow. Just a beautiful warm coat perfect for when the weather turns.

Social Tees' new neighbors, an awesome juice and smoothie shop, just made a very generous donation!!! These super nice guys and gals also make excellent fresh drinks -- banana blueberry smoothies, melon juice, ginger shots, and so much more yummy goodness. The entire staff is now totally hooked. Come check them out... and visit Social Tees while you're at it!

Golokanyc.com325 E. 5th StreetNYC

WHO COULDN'T LOVE A FACE LIKE THAT???

It's Baby, an 8-month-old Pug/Terrier mix! And she is waiting for you here at Social Tees, and she's game for anything. She looks like a tiny Chinese dragon, and she's cute as a muffin! She's awesome with all other animals and people, and she's perfected the insanely happy wiggle-run.

Come meet her at Social Tees' Headquarters!! 325 East 5th Street, NYC

COME TO THE RESCUE AND FOSTER!!!

You could go to action movies where you watch superheros save mothers and children...

OR...

YOU CAN BE A SUPER HERO AND SAVE THESE KITTENS AND CATS!
Foster homes for two mama cats and their litters of
kittens are needed!!! Fostering would start in a day or two and last a few weeks.

WHAT'S FOSTERING, YOU WONDER?!

Fostering lasts a few weeks, and Social Tees can provide supplies if
you need them. Fostering is SUPER important because it's much
healthier for our animals to be in homes than in cages, and it expands
our shelter virtually.

AND for every cat and dog that is placed in a foster home, Social
Tees can pull another out of the kill shelter. So if you are an
animal-lover with commitment issues, FOSTER!!!

Thursday, August 1, 2013

While transforming a house into a home, and a home into dreams come true, revisiting the search.Originally posted December 23, 2010

The West Side Train Yards - soon to be luxury high rises.

Before the rare purchase of that car, it used to be trains, subways or a Greyhound were the only way out, that is if we had to leave.

Airplanes were as exotic as suddenly living in a Hollywood movie. Beyond imagination. So we didn't imagine. Unless there was a death in the family in a very far away place like California and then only one of us got to go only once.

But besides death, the annual trip to Philadelphia to see aunts, uncles and cousins was about as much as we did.

After reading that Bach had lived and died within 60 miles of his birthplace I swore to my mother or my sister or my dad that I would never do that. I was going to go far and away and die some place that proved I had left.

Those train yards and those trains look like what my feet could do if I had kept my promise.

About Me

MY PRIVATE CONEY presents IT WAS HER NEW YORK, the short stories that accompany the work-in-progress video and photo collection of the same name (myprivateconey.com - media link - IT WAS HER NEW YORK). The stories and the media explore the tender rubble that holds both my mother, Florence's and New York's soul as one disappears into old age and the other into gentrification. All are real observations and/or experiences with very little tall-tale telling.
Except when it makes the story better.
Please visit myprivateconey.com for additional information and sample works.